


Remember Me

by Starthewolf1106



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Memory Loss, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 11:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starthewolf1106/pseuds/Starthewolf1106
Summary: It had been a year since Peter sacrificed himself for the good of the world. He thought he was going to die. He gave himself up, so that others may live.Except, he didn't die. When he awoke, he was confused and in pain. Stumbling to his feet, he wandered the streets, injured and alone. Eventually finding out that he never existed, he felt himself break.How would he live without his family?





	Remember Me

Peter pulled his hood over his head to try and escape the freezing winter air. Bracing against the late December wind, he shielded his eyes against the ice particles blowing into his face.

Red and green festive lights shone down on him as he trecked to his small, run-down storage container in which he lived. He knew it was a bad idea to go out in a blizzard, but he needed to get food. His stores were near empty, and he was starving.

Coughing and wheezing, he moved his numb legs through the snow. A glimpse of red caught his eyes. Turning, he saw a figure laying in the snow.

Racing forwards, he crouched down. Falcon lay on his side, lips blue and fingers curled. His wings were iced over and mangled. 

Breath hitching in his throat, Peter moved his bags to his other arm. Looking up, be searched for the other Avengers. 

Seeing that the sky was empty, aside from the heavy snowfall, he took a deep breath. Draping Sam over his shoulder, he quickened his place towards home.

* * *

After snuggling Sam into all the blankets he owned, Peter figured that he should start up a warm meal. Unfortunately, he could cook anything outside, so some warm bread and one of his orange juice bottles would have to do.

Setting aside Sam's food, he dug into his meal. Once he was done, he walked over to where he stored his food.

Sorting and putting away the food, he heard Sam stirr from behind him. A small groan followed by the shifting of blankets told him that Sam was awake.

Suddenly, Sam stopped moving. Peter could hear his heartbeat and breathing pick up, before be spoke.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam growled.

"The person who saved your life, now shut up and eat." Peter growled back, trying to distance himself emotionally.

Blinking in surprise, Sam obeyed and ate in silence.

"So, what were you doing, flying out in a blizzard?" Peter demanded, tapping his foot in annoyance.

"Hunting down the mass spree killer who's been targeting innocent civilians." Sam answered dryly.

Snorting, Peter rolled his eyes.

"You want help with that?" Peter offered.

Raising his eyebrows, Sam gave him a disbelieving look.

"I... I don't think you understand. This guy's is responsible for 112 civilian deaths. The FBI, the CIA, S.H.I.E.L.D, everyone's looking for this guy. No offense, but what could you possibly do?" Sam questioned, bemused.

Rolling his eyes, Peter grabbed a long, metal slab he salvaged the other day. Looking Sam dead in the eye, be snapped it clean in half, then threw the two pieces into a small pile in the corner.

Wide eyes with shock, Sam stared in bewilderment. 

"...Right. Super strength. Well, I guess you can help, but you have to listen to me. Got it?" Sam caved, still staring at the metal.

"Got it. We'll have to wait out this blizzard, though." Peter agreed.

"What? Why? We need to catch this guy as soon as possible!" Sam objected.

"First off, you can't fly in this. You already crashed and nearly froze to death from trying. Second, I need to fix your wings, third, the killer is almost certainly waiting this out too, and finally, I fucking hate the snow." Peter reasoned, watching as Sam caved and lowered his head.

"The name's Peter, by the way. Welcome to my humble abode, which is also a storage container." Peter introduced, curling up in a smaller blanket that Sam tossed to the side.

"Sam. Sam Wilson. I'm sure you already know who I am." Sam replied. A moment of silence passed, before Sam spoke up again.

"So, do you live here with anyone? Like, a friend or family?" He questioned, cautiously.

Peter paused, a wave of sadness rolling over him. Remembering how they used to be, he felt the same feeling of grief and emptiness he felt for months after the incident.

"I used to have a family." Peter spoke, his voice soft and grief-stricken.

Sam's eyes softened, and he murmured out an apology. Shaking himself, Peter raised his head.

"No matter. I had my fairy tale, I'll be okay. The killer won't be though, once we find him." Peter deflected, which Sam eagerly accepted.

Eventually, Sam fell asleep, leaving Peter to his own thoughts.


End file.
